Guilty?
by PiecesOfEight
Summary: Will and Elizabeth are separated on their way to Tia Dalma's, emotional and guilty. Can they control their emotions, and stay true to each other? Beckett's past incl. Willabeth. Some WIllxOC. Some BeckettxOC. Minor AWE spoiler ch5. I don't own POTC
1. What have I done?

"Where's Jack?" Will surveyed Elizabeth's guilt-ridden face accusingly. She looked around at the crew, cramped into the small longboat. Her eyes passed over everyone, averting her glance from Will's.

"He elected to stay behind, give us a chance." Even she didn't believe her lie. She could still taste the Captain's salty lips on hers, the warmth of his touch. She dared a glance at Will. _He knows… something. _ She redirected her glance ahead of her at Marty, not able to bear Will's gaze any longer. She almost shouted, "Go!" Turning her head to hide her face from Will's searching eyes, her mind filled with thoughts. Her body swayed back and forth as she held back tears. _What have I done?_

Will could feel his heart sinking as he saw them kiss. Or rather, saw Elizabeth kiss Jack. He felt the burning anger rise when she wouldn't look at him, wouldn't say anything. He couldn't fathom what he had done to deserve this. He sat in silence, watching Elizabeth as she slowly rocked back and forth. He wished he could say something, anything to calm her, to comfort her. He heard the cracking and splashing that was the Pearl as if from a terrible distance. He thought he heard a voice somewhere near, calling to him.

He rose from his trance at a sharp whack on the head from Raghetti. Mr. Gibbs looked at him questioningly, at which time Will realized he had been being called. "Sorry, didn't catch that." He tried to look normal, or as normal as one can look after a terrible ordeal such as the one they just went through.

"Do we have a destination?" Mr. Gibbs tried to decipher Will's estranged expression. When he failed to answer, Mr. Gibbs tried to reach him again. "Will? Should we go as far as Port Royal? Upriver to see Tia Dalma?"

"Whichever one's closer." Elizabeth looked up for the first time, answering the question. "I need to get out of this boat." _I need to think. _As she turned her head away again, she caught a glimpse of Will's face. His pained expression, trying to understand hers. She tried to say something, tried to say even his name, but she felt the breath catch in her throat. She was too overcome with regret and guilt to face the crew. _He wouldn't… understand. I can't tell him. He doesn't have to deal with this._

_Elizabeth… It'll be alright. It's over. _The words formed in his head. He tried to voice them. But he knew it was a lie. It wasn't over yet. Not for him. He remembered the look on his father's face when he left. He remembered his promise. He knew it wasn't over for her either. _I do what I can. I fix things. But this…this I can't fix._ "Elizabeth…" Her eyes met his, and he held her gaze. He wouldn't let her go.

Marty and Cotton, at the edge of the boat, were searching for land. Marty searched the shoreline for the familiar entrance to the canal, but couldn't find it. He looked over at Mr. Gibbs. "We are going Upriver, aren't we?" Gibbs nodded sullenly. He had just come to an important realization.

"We can't go back to Port Royal. But then, we're on the wrong side of the Isla Cruces."

Raghetti gaped at the words. His arms were tiring from the rowing. "We have to turn around?" He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He looked over at Pintel. They were both out of energy. Gibbs could see it too.

"Someone switch jobs with Raghetti and Pintel. They can't row forever." He looked around at the weary troupe. Elizabeth volunteered after a short pause. _I need to do something. Get my mind off it._ Will, seeing his opportunity, volunteered as well.

Will was hit by a wave of grief as he remembered something Jack had said to him so long ago. _Wait for the opportune moment…_ If any moment was opportune, it was this one. He felt the aftershock of grief in the form of anger. Remembering Jack, and the last time he saw him. The sudden burst of anger set an extra force into rowing, and the boat began to turn unnecessarily. He tried to channel the energy, but found it increasingly difficult. Elizabeth looked around at him angrily. He looked right back, staring into her eyes. Her look changed from anger to guilt, and she rapidly withdrew her gaze, looking in front of her at the retreating shoreline, wishing she were standing on it, rather than here with the crew.

The members of the crew began to doze, one by one, as the couple continued rowing. Determinedly looking anywhere but at each other, not saying a word. Once or twice Will tried to capture her gaze again, but she wouldn't let him.

The clouds gathered in the darkening sky, the sun illuminating the party, making it glow soft gold. The first drops of rain woke the crew, as the air cooled. It wasn't long before the rain intensified, drenching the crew and gathered in the boat. Will and Elizabeth were growing weary, and so switched places with Marty and Cotton, moving to opposite ends of the boat. They had nowhere to look but into each other's eyes as Gibbs worked on bailing the water out of the boat. The boat gave a violent shake and water pooled at Elizabeth's feet. The boat was rapidly filling with water, slowly tipping on it's bow. The waves became choppy and rough as the storm grew. With one particularly terrible shake, the bow delved into the water and the boat began to sink.

The crew was panicked; there was nowhere to go but into the angry waters. Elizabeth was first to be pulled underwater. Will, on his way down, was able only to say one thing. He whispered it as if it were a secret he wanted not to be heard. "Elizabeth…"


	2. The Safe Havens

_Where am I? _Elizabeth awoke lying on the soggy driftwood she had grabbed onto. The stars twinkled, the only source of light around her. The moon was but a sliver barely visible in the blackened sky. She shivered in the icy air, still heavy from the storm. There was no land in sight, no person to hear her calls. Open water that seemed to stretch on until the ends of the earth. She was alone, in pure isolation. "Hello? Is anyone there?" In the distance, she thought she saw the flicker of a light, the ghostly silhouette of a ship. She called out again, and as her eyes adjusted to the shadowy night the light burned brighter. The ship became clearer. The sails were pulled up, a chain dangling over the side to anchor it to the deep sea floor. Neither the ship nor the approaching longboat bore flags. The man in the boat looked vaguely familiar, however. Even in the dim light, she could make out the trifold upon his head, covering the top of the powdered wig. The tidy uniform. And she felt the smile creep onto her face, and she knew. James Norrington was safe.

"My word. Elizabeth? What are you doing out here?" He asked, as he helped her onto the longboat. "Where are Turner and Sparrow? I saw them only five days ago. Are they not with you?" He handed her a blanket as she seated herself in the boat. She was drenched in water and freezing. "Have you been caught in this storm? A nightmare if I've ever seen one, and it lasted quite long. Reminds me of the hurricane,"

She faltered at the mention of Will and Jack. Again when he told her how long the storm has lasted. "F-Five days? The storm lasted five days?" James nodded, giving her a puzzled look. "Our boat, it sunk in the storm. We were all separated." She cast her eyes downwards, not wanting to betray her guilt. Not wanting him to see what he so often did that she tried to hide.

"Elizabeth you always were bad at lying." He shot her a disapproving look. "I can't very well help you if you don't tell me the truth. About _everything_." He stressed this last word as her eyes came to meet his. He saw the tears welling up behind her eyes, refusing to come forth.

When they reached the ship, he sat her down on a soft chair, seating himself beside her. "Jack is… what I mean to say is… he's dead. And Will—" She broke off, letting one tear roll down her cheek. She could taste the bitterness of it; she could hear the hardness of her words. "Will was on the boat. I don't know where he is." He looked at her; saw her sorrow, and her pain. He moved over to where she was, and put his arms around her. She felt safer somehow, and let herself cry until she fell asleep.

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Will hadn't ever felt as lonely as he did now. Not when his father left. Not when his mother died. He had lost Elizabeth. He had washed up on the shore of an island three days ago, weak and weary. He had almost drowned in the storm, trying to hold on to something for support. He had woken up on a soft, white sand beach, in the shade of the palm trees. All he could do was call out, hope that someone heard him. He couldn't move; a piece of wood had hit him in the storm, blown by the forceful winds. He had received a deep gash in his left leg, and had been able to roughly bandage it, but he had been in too much pain to walk, the salty water stinging as he had tried to swim towards the shore. A young boy had found him after only a few hours, and was able to find help.

The young boy, called Noah, was sitting with him now. Noah's parents had welcomed Will like he was their own family, given him a room, and food, and taking helping him with his leg. He had sat with Noah everyday, talking about all sorts of things, both of their pasts, and legends of the island. Will wasn't sure where he was, but he was sure he wouldn't be here much longer. Everyday he stayed his heart ached a bit more. He longed to see Elizabeth again, even if she wouldn't speak with him.

One specific legend had interested Will very much. He looked Noah, at the dreamy look in the ten year-old's eyes as he retold the legend to Will:

"They say that far to the west, on the shoreline where it is most rocky, there is a small hut. This hut is filled with all sorts of treasures that have washed up on the island. But what's even more interesting is the woman that lives inside. Lost sailors come to seek wisdom from her. They call her the Lady of the Sea. She is not a woman of magic; she cannot read fortunes, or cast spells. But the advice she gives is special; it seems to affect everything around the person who receives it. But her advice is only given to the worthy." The boy looked at Will. "She's supposed to be very pretty too. One day, I'm going to meet her." His eyes seemed to look far into the distance, as the boy was lost in his thoughts.

Will was consumed in his own thoughts as well. He knew what he had to do now. Noah didn't move even as Will limped out the door and onto the beach. Will set his sights to the west and began to walk normally. He walked with greater speed, gritting his teeth to help bear the pain in his leg. He needed to see if the storied were true. He needed to get there today. _Even if it kills me… Elizabeth…_


	3. Secrets

"Where are you going Will?" Will slowly turned around. He had already traveled for what felt like forever. The sun had crossed to its highest point in the sky since he had left early that morning. "Mama said you shouldn't be going anywhere yet." The voice that spoke was familiar. Will couldn't see the boy, although he knew he was there.

"Noah?" He called out tentatively. _Maybe I'm imagining things…_ The small town he had left was merely a speck on the beach in the far-off distance. He looked around again, scanning the barren shoreline for any sign of another human. "Noah is that you?" The boy stepped out from behind a palm tree, a look of disappointment on his face. Will realized how lonely Noah must have been before he got there. There weren't many kids on the island. He saw the same look in Noah's eyes that he had seen in the mirror.

Will moved over to the boy. He gave out a gentle laugh. "How long have you been following me, huh?" He ruffled the boy's hair, and saw Noah's mouth twist into a smile. "I'm going to see if the legend are true. You should go back to your parents."

Noah looked up eagerly at Will's face. "I… want to come with you. I left a note for Mama and Papa so they wouldn't worry. Can I come?" Will looked into the boy's eyes again, not able to refuse the boy a thing. He paused for a moment, and then nodded his head. Noah smiled and ran off, excited to be with Will.

The two of them walked along the beach for hours more, pausing only once to rest on the rocks. After some time, Noah spotted a small structure on the beach, just in front of the rocks. As they approached, the beach broke into sections of cold rock. Noah was able to hop from rock to rock nimbly, quickly reaching the small hut. Will jumped carefully to each rock, picking the flattest route. He could feel the cool ocean spray on the side of his face; smell the salty air he had come to love in the past two years.

He slowly made it halfway to the hut with no problem. Will came to a dead end. The only rocks around him were craggier and steeper. Noah called to him to hurry up, so Will made his choice and jumped. His feet almost slipped on the edge if the rock, and as he tried to keep his balance his leg twinged with pain from his injury. He let out a call of pain and his foot slipped off the rock. As he tumbled downward, he saw a woman coming towards him, as if she were gliding along the beach. He landed on the soft sand beneath the waves, and all went black.

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The sunlight trickled through the break in the curtains, leaving a small strip of light in the small room that passed over Elizabeth's eyes. She awoke to find herself lying in a warm bed, with dry clothes laid out on a chair beside her. There was a bucket of water and a cloth lying on a small table by the window. Elizabeth hastily redressed, glad to be rid of the dirty, stale clothing, and washed her face with the water. She moved over to the window and opened the curtains, letting the sunlight illuminate all the dark corners of the room. She could see the room better now. It was rather larger than she first had thought, and the walls were ornamented with a few paintings, and on the wall on the other side of the room, by the door, was a long mirror.

She moved over to the mirror and stood in front of it, taking a long look at what she had become. She was rather clean, as she had been prior to being plunged into the ocean several times. She hadn't changed much, but for her eyes. They appeared hollowed, as if something was missing. A piece of her gone astray, cast out on the sea to be controlled by the phases of the moon. She looked wearied and tired. Her eyes cast downwards to the floor in quiet contemplation of everything that had happened. Her thoughts were disturbed by a knock on the door and she hurriedly opened it, casting any look of worry from her face.

"Miss Swann, it's nice to see you again." The voice was one she knew well, but not one that she expected. Although she had already opened the door partway, she could not see the man on the other side of it. The door flew open, and a shorter man with an authoritative air walked into the room.

"Lord Beckett," Elizabeth seethed. She was not happy to see him. She recalled their last meeting, or rather, encounter, and she wondered if he would want some sort of revenge. She eyed the glinting cutlass on his hip, suddenly wishing she were armed as well. "To what do I owe this honour?" She felt it best to uphold all expectations of courtesy in this situation.

His eyes moved over her face, and traveled along the path of her eyesight. "There's no cause for worry, as I'm sure you are well aware." Somehow, to Elizabeth, this seemed more of a threat than a reassurance. "Although I know in meetings such as these you prefer to be the one holding the weapon. No I am here to enquire about the whereabouts of William Turner and Jack Sparrow. You may save yourself by giving me this information."

Elizabeth felt the tears again, not as grieving, as one would expect, but burning behind her eyes, trying to come forward. Jack had betrayed them all, and Will had seemed so accusatory, suspicious. "Jack Sparrow… is dead. As for Will, we were separated in the storm. I have no idea where he is." Lord Beckett didn't seem satisfied with this answer, but he accepted it nonetheless. He left the room with an invitation to leave the room and explore the ship.

She was stunned by his quick departure. But she knew what she would ask of James Norrington. When Lord Beckett came back, and he would, she would want a sword by her side.

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The air was heavily perfumed. Will's eyes were closed to the outside world, but he could still smell the thickness of the air, still hear the voices, as if they were angels calling to him from far away. He opened his eyes and saw two people sitting next to him. He tried to get up, and found his wound in much better condition than it had been in. It had been properly bandaged, and had seemed to heal a bit more. He sat up, looking around. Noah was talking in hushed tones with a girl around his age.

The girl looked around, and seeing Will sitting spoke gently to him. "Oh, you're up. Careful now, you don't want that cut to open up again. The Lady provided medicine for it—" she pointed to a bottle by the bed, "and said she would like to meet you. You… you have something special around you. A terrible fate, but a great something that was lost is found. At least, that's what the Lady said. She's never wrong about things like that, mister. She's with someone right now, but she said she'd come see you soon. Just rest up, mister." Again, Will saw those eyes. Eyes that have known loneliness. Eyes that have known loss. He wondered how many more times he would have to endure those glances from children as young as they are. He lay back in the bed, but his mind was too busy with thought to rest properly.

A short while later, a curtain was pulled back and a woman entered the room. The girl, who Will had come to know as Mina, left with Noah. The woman seated herself across from him so that he could see her without moving. The woman had on a pale pink dress, in the London style. It looked roughly worn, but he could barely see the parts that had been re-sewn. In front of her face she held a golden fan, so that her face was concealed. The golden fan too looked a bit battered but expertly remade. He looked at her, then began to speak. "Are you-"

But his question was answered before he asked it. "Aye, I am the Lady of the Sea. I'm sure you have an interesting path ahead of you, and an interesting past behind. What advice do you seek?" Will was taken aback by her forwardness. He was unsure what to say, but he felt he could trust this strange woman.

Will took a breath to steady himself and began, from the first time he met Jack Sparrow, to the storm. He told her things about his father, things about himself that he hadn't told anyone before. Not even Elizabeth.


	4. What's Wrong With Me?

"Absolutely out of the question." The admiral narrowed his eyes, pulling Elizabeth around a corner and out of sight. He looked down at her face, her pleading expression, and studied her face carefully before continuing. "Elizabeth, you know I would do anything for you, but this… this asks too much. I cannot provide a weapon to a fugitive from justice. No matter what." He added the last part hastily, steeling himself towards her. He was torn between what was right, and what was proper. He knew how easily Lord Beckett's temper could be tested.

"If I were truly a 'fugitive from justice,' as you put it, why haven't I been arrested yet?" She saw his features soften as he regarded her changing expression. His eyes wandered away from her, and stopped, transfixed on some spot behind her. She turned around, the voice trilling from behind her dripping with smugness.

"Curiosity, Miss Swann. I wonder how useful you can be to the East India Company." Lord Beckett stepped further into the light. A smirk was playing about his lips, his wig looked excessively white, and in his outstretched hand he held a sheathed sword, its hilt glinting in the sunlight that shone dappled through the cracks in the boards of the ship. "I wonder how valuable the information you can provide could be."

Elizabeth took the blade from Beckett without word of thanks, and stalked off to her quarters. As she rounded the corner, James thought he saw her throw a scathing look back to the pair of them, but shrugged it off as a trick played by his mind, and followed Cutler Beckett back to the deck.

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"And so you feel you must apologize?" The Lady spoke quietly, the first time she had interrupted him in quite a long time. Will could see her sympathetic gaze in her eyes. He stared at them, the only part of her face he could see. His dark eyes were transfixed on her blue eyes. He stirred,; gazing into her eyes he felt something… different. He felt as if he could hide nothing from her, like she could see into his soul. As she asked this question of him, he realized something about her eyes. They had seen much, from happiness to sorrow. They had seen more of the world than he had ever imagined.

"I feel… I feel that if I can't trust Elizabeth with this plan I can't trust her with anything, nor her me." He thought back to Elizabeth's face after they had left the Pearl. He could see her expression, guarded and hurt. He could only imagine what she was feeling. _Sadness? Disappointment? Guilt?_ "Maybe I can't trust her at all…"

Although he muttered this last part so she couldn't hear, she appeared to know what he said. They sat in silence for a while as she contemplated all he had told her. She thought first about when he felt he had begun to lose Elizabeth, the interrupted wedding. She thought about his time on the Flying Dutchman, about the promise he made to his father. She thought about his plans to save Bootstrap, and how losing the heart had foiled them. Lastly, she thought about what he had told him of his feelings as they abandoned Jack. Finally, she spoke. "If she had loved him, she wouldn't have left him." The Lady stood up, and walked back through the doorway that she had entered from. As soon as she left, he felt more alone than he'd ever felt before. Isolated in this room, alone with his thoughts. He wished she would come back, willed her presence once more. _What's wrong with me?_

Will turned over, barely noticing when Mina and Noah slipped back into the room. He thought about her words, her strange demeanor. He could vaguely hear the Lady reenter the room to speak with Mina as he let sleep take him.

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Elizabeth sat on the bed, staring out the window. She had returned to the room to find her old clothes washed and delivered, so she changed into them, liking them rather more than the clothes that had been provided to her. The sword lay sheathed on the bed in front of her. She heard a knock on the door, and hurriedly pretended to be asleep, pulling the sword up beside her head. She heard someone call her name, followed by the slow creak as they entered the room. She heard the footsteps crossing the room, and the soft swishing of the curtains being drawn. When she was sure she was quite alone again, she reopened the curtain and resumed her position on the bed.

She studied the handle of the sword for a short while before unsheathing the blade. It seemed vaguely familiar. She recognized the shape and style from somewhere, but she couldn't remember where. It wasn't until she tried to find the balance point that she remembered. With the memories, came the guilt, and with the guilt came the pain. She heard a voice from the doorway. "Yes, that sword is the one that Mr. Turner crafted for me." She dropped the sword, startled by the admiral's sudden appearance.

"James! I didn't hear you come in." She looked at him, at the smile on his face. Wondering how long he'd been standing there, she started to talk. "How did you know that's what I--?"

"The look in your eyes. The same look when he was mentioned earlier." He watched as she sat back down on the bed. He stood in front of her for a moment, then brought up the chair from the corner and sat down. "I came to make sure you're all right… What happened? Really?" He stressed the last word, adamant that she tell the truth. "Elizabeth…"

"I don't… I think… Will thinks he can't trust me anymore. Not really." She trailed off, looking down at the sheets. James put one finger under her chin, drawing her face up so she looked him in the eye. "I… I killed Jack. I kissed him so I could chain him to the Pearl and leave him to the Kraken. It was only so that we could escape. I had no choice! And… I think Will suspects something, but I can't… I can't tell him. " She felt the tears coming forward, felt the guilt burning inside her. _ What's wrong with me? _She'd started to tell him what happened, she couldn't stop now.

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'_If she had loved him, she wouldn't have left him.'_ Over and over again Will heard these words play in his mind. I was so simple, it had to be true, he knew it. _But what of the kiss, and why wouldn't she say anything? If she didn't love him—If she loves me—Why didn't she tell me what happened?_ He could see the sunlight pouring through the break in the curtains, and got out of bed. He tore the pieces of cloth away from the window, letting in the light. The pain in his leg was minimal, so he went off to find Noah.

The building was much larger than it had appeared from outside. He walked through winding halls and eventually found himself in what appeared to be the entrance. He could see the ocean outside, feel the salty spray as it splashed through the open door. He could hear Noah and Mina's voices in the room to the right, so he went in. It appeared to be some sort of store room. There was food on many shelves to his left, items of a miscellaneous nature (ranging from seemingly valuable trinkets to swords and guns) on shelves ahead of him, and clothing and medicines to his right. He found the two of them sitting at a small table in the middle of the room, illuminated by the bright sunlight. With them was a woman who appeared to be about his age. He knew they could not see him from the angle at which he stood, so he entered quietly.

Will could see the woman was beautiful. She was wearing a silvery white dress, her brown hair tumbling around her shoulders. Her smile was entrancing. Framed as she was by the light against the dark backdrop of the walls, she looked an angel. He took one step towards them, and silently cursed to himself when the boards creaked. Mina and Noah appeared not to have heard anything, but the woman's eyes darted up towards where he stood. They did not linger long, and Will was safe with his belief that she hadn't seen him.

A short while later, after Noah and Mina had left the woman sitting there alone, he made his presence known. He introduced himself to her, and she merely smiled back. He stared at her smile, at her beautiful crystal blue eyes, maybe a moment too long. _This… this is the Lady of the Sea._ He looked again upon her face, saw the smile fade. She looked into his eyes and understood. "So, you've figured out who I am then." She turned away and walked over to the window. He went over to her, put a hand on her shoulder.

"Am I not supposed to know? Would you bid me forget?" She looked into his eyes again. _What's wrong with me?_ Again, he felt that something different. She tried to smile, but was unable. She broke eye contact, and walked once more across the room. She couldn't bear to stand with him. She knew how he felt about everything.

"We have much in common, Mr. Turner." She looked upon him again, and he moved over to her once more. _If I can't hide anything from her, why is she trying to hide from me?_

"You can call me Will." In that one sentence, he realized how Elizabeth must have felt for most of the time they had known each other. He now knew what it was like to be rejected the one small courtesy of being addressed by your name. His perspective on Elizabeth changed, as it had when the Lady had given him advice. "And what may I call you?"

She avoided the subject. "Yes, much in common Will. You have loved, and lost. I had loved… once. Do not give up hope on Elizabeth." His eyes stared back into hers. She couldn't go without giving her name. Without telling him all he wished to know. He wouldn't let her. She sank onto the bench, and looked up at him.

"What," he repeated, more forcefully, "may I call you?" She looked at him, but not at his eyes. She wouldn't make eye contact again, he realized.

"You may call me by my name, but I shan't speak it here." She got up to go, but he held fast to her arm, pulling her back. She felt something when he grabbed her arm. Something she hadn't felt in a long time. Automatically, without any conscious thought, she let her name slide through her lips. "Cassandra. My name is Cassandra." She tried to leave, but Will held even tighter to her arm. She turned around to face him. They were only a foot away now. He caught her gaze with his. He wouldn't let her go anywhere.

"Why does it worry you? What's so wrong about me knowing your name? Seeing your face?" He demanded this of her. He felt strange. He had never felt like this before, save for when he was with Elizabeth. _What's wrong with me?_

"Faces and names have more power than you could imagine, Will." She felt it too. "Never forget hope. Never forget Elizabeth. Don't let her go." He relinquished his grip, and she left him to his thoughts once again. _What's wrong with me?_


	5. Time and Tide, Love

James Norrington was an excellent listener. Elizabeth told her tale without being interrupted or questioned. He took it all in, bore her burdens with her. She couldn't help but respect that about him. _If only Will would listen like this sometimes…_ She was missing Will more and more; she needed to find him somehow. She reiterated this need to James, who told her they weren't heading for land anytime soon. She could hardly believe this, but begrudgingly let him leave when he had to get back to his duties.

She resumed her sitting position on the bed, her back to wall, staring out the window. When James had come in, it had been early afternoon. Currently, the sky was darkening, strands of orange and red tossed in with the dark blues and purples of the horizon. She began to feel the hunger gnawing at her stomach, but ignored it, thinking about Will.

She could feel his presence next to her as clearly as she had the day of the storm. She remembered him as he was then, flustered, suspicious. She thought hard about the man he had been when they had parted. He had been cold, untrusting. His gaze was piercing and accusatory. That had not been the man she had fallen in love with.

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Will had retired to his bed and sat talking with Noah for the better part of the evening. When Noah had gone to bed however, Will found himself quite alone, laying in darkness with naught but his memories to comfort him. He remembered the first time he had seen Elizabeth. He had thought she was an angel, thought he was dead. He thought about the last time he had seen Elizabeth. He thought about her unwillingness even to look at him, let alone speak to him. He thought about the kiss, how Jack had looked at Elizabeth. He could only imagine the look in her eyes.

The anger boiled up at once, blocking all his thoughts. He lay in the confines of the room for what seemed like forever, until the emotion was too much to bear. Will walked out onto the rocky shore, as close to the open ocean and as far away from the island, as he could get. He stood in the silence for a while, calming down with the cool spray on his face. He could smell the ocean again, he felt freer than he had in days. He hopped along the rocks, careful of where he was stepping. There was no sound but for the tides gently washing in and out, and a soft humming from far away.

He hadn't noticed the humming sound before. He looked along the shore, or rather rocks as shore had been washed out long ago. On the other side of the house he saw Cassandra sitting on one of the tallest rocks, quietly humming a pretty melody. It was vaguely familiar to him, and he found himself unable to turn away, subconsciously walking towards her. As he got closer, he recognized the melody, remembered it as a pirate song his mother had taught him when he was very young.

Will mouthed the words as he got closer.

_Yo ho, haul together, hoist the colours high…_

He could see her clearly now, her feet swinging, toes just grazing the surface of the water sending ripples that broke the calm.

_Heave ho, thieves and beggars, never shall we die…_

He stood just behind her now. He could feel her warmth from where he stood. Her voice rang clear throughout the still night. The waves broke against the rocks, adding a character to the song as if many instruments were joining her. Her voice echoes so it felt like he was in the midst of a chorus. The tips of his fingers accidentally brushed her hand, and he felt a jolt as he saw a mirage out on the sea. A boy, fingering a piece of eight, set to hang. _What is this?_ The boy was singing, he could hear the song as if he stood next to him.

_The King and his men_

_Stole the queen from her bed_

_And bound her in her Bones_

_The seas be ours_

_And by the powers_

_Where we will, we'll roam_

She seemed to feel his cool touch and whipped her head around, breaking the image and quieting the song. The waves were just waves, the voice was just a whisper of the winds.

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Elizabeth woke the next morning to a quiet ship. No movement could be heard, no light could be seen. The curtains were still wide open, yet she could see no light from outside. She moved closer to the window, and seeing a large ship beside them backed against the wall.

She grabbed her sword and hurriedly ran up to the deck. The ships were connected by a sort of bridge that was guarded by two men in uniform. She glanced up at the ship, its sails torn, the wood overgrown with sea life. Anchored next to the Endeavour was the Flying Dutchman.

She watched as Norrington and Beckett stepped out of a cabin shortly followed by Davy Jones and Mercer. Davy Jones seemed rather anxious to be rid of them, and so they left, leaving Mercer behind.

When Norrington and Beckett had returned to the Endeavour, the anchor was lifted and they began to sail again. Elizabeth found James and pulled him aside. "James, how am I going to find Will? I've no idea what to do!" She was panicked. She had never been so confused in her life, never had no plan of action. She knew where the crew would be headed, but she had no idea where any of them were. She remembered them saying something about 'upriver,' so tried to get the information she needed from Lord Beckett.

Beckett was busy at the helm when she found him. "Miss Swann, what can I do for you?"

Elizabeth had no patience, no time, for being proper today. Abandoning all courtesy, she asked plainly, "Have you ever heard of a person called Tia Dalma?" Beckett's lips twisted into a grimace. She saw him mouth two words, but her best guess would be 'sea witch,_ Sea Witch? What on earth—_ "You know where to find her? We—I need to find her. I need to get there."

Lord Cutler Beckett faced her with grim satisfaction. "How much is it worth to you?"

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The look in his eyes scared her, he could see it on her face. Will couldn't help himself. He was entranced by the vision, by the sound of her echoing voice. He took a step so her was in front of her, their eyes at the same level when she sat on the rock. He could hear her shallow breath, feel the air catch in his throat.

Cassandra held out a hand to stop him. "Will, don't forget… Elizabeth." He seemed oblivious to her words, however. He seemed unable to stop himself. His mind had shut down, he wasn't controlling his actions anymore. He was consumed by his whims, his desires. He would have no excuses for anything.

Will grabbed the hand she held out. He felt that jolt again when he touched her, but this time she felt it too. She gave him one last warning. "Never forget—" She was cut off from words as he pulled her towards him, pulled her into a gentle kiss. She felt herself melt into the kiss, trying to contain herself. This kiss was… different. There was passion here, there was something more. This kiss and the kiss Will had seen had nothing in common. He just didn't know it yet. The tides turned, and Will's feet were soaked. He broke the kiss, and she finished her warning. "Elizabeth."

Will remembered. He remembered Elizabeth, the kiss, and everything else. He seemed to come out of his stupor. _Elizabeth… What was I thinking?_ The answer was simple. He wasn't thinking. Cassandra slipped off the stone and wandered away, leaving Will to wallow in his shame.


	6. I'm Not Sorry

Will woke early that morning, the water washing over his face, nearly choking him. He had fallen asleep out on the rocks, thinking about Elizabeth. He was drenched from head to toe, it seemed the changing tide had caused him to wake. He found a higher rock and sat on it, unable to go further out to sea, afraid to go back to the house. He turned his head so that the house was visible. It shone in the golden sunrise like a castle made to shelter kings. It looked so calm. _It wouldn't be right to wake everyone now, so early in the morning…_

Will tried to think of reasons to stay outside with the salty spray. He wanted to go back, apologize to Cassandra, but found himself unable to move. He stared out at the rising sun, at the still water before him. He wondered what had happened to the others—Gibbs, Marty, Cotton, Pintel, Raghetti… Elizabeth. Thinking of the crew was too painful, bringing memories of Jack.

He thought instead of Elizabeth, hoping she would forgive him. He was shamed, and he thought she would never understand. He whispered one word, but it was not the one he thought it would be. He thought of Elizabeth, thought o her smile, her kind understanding and patience. He thought again of the kiss—both the kisses—and was unable to speak that name. Instead, a cry out to all those who have loved, and lost—and loved; a call to the lost souls of the sea, of whom he knew some would have faced this dilemma. He whispered one name, but not that which he intended. "Cassandra."

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"How much is it worth to you?" Cutler Beckett was mocking her, she knew. She had dealt with his type of man before. They were all the same: greedy, arrogant, and smug.

Elizabeth looked him in the eye, hiding her distaste for dealing with him. "Do you know it, or don't you?" She knew this was hardly the thing to say, but she couldn't think of anything else. Her mind was focused on going upriver, finding Will. She had thought over what she would say to him a million times over.

Lord Beckett's smirk faltered, a glance of disappointment across his features. "Regrettably, no. I do not know where to find that witch nowadays. But I know where to find someone who can help." She looked at him, daggers in her eyes, indicating for him to explain. He knew better than to test her patience from her last bit of 'bargaining.' "Some call her the Lady of the Sea. Others call her by name—no, I cannot speak it. It would be ill advised on many counts. We can take you there, but the rest you must do on your own. How much is it worth to you?"

She thought for a moment before responding. "More than anything I could hope to give."

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Will sat out on the rocks for a long time. He sat out even after the sun was high in the sky. He hid behind the rock when he heard Noah calling his name. He sat out until he could no longer bear the hunger, at which point he snuck back into the house to grab something quickly. He managed to get in and out without being seen, and quickly made his way back to the rock. He sat longer, until the blinking stars had punctured the perfect dark of the night sky, and longer still. He sat as the sea stirred up, the waves breaking on the rocks. He was so enveloped with thought he didn't notice white sails on the horizon, and he didn't notice Cassandra walk up to him until she'd placed her hand gently on his back.

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Elizabeth was startled at how quickly the journey seemed to pass. The sun was setting, as she sat alone in her room, hoping that Lord Beckett wouldn't change his mind. By nightfall, she could see an island in the distance. The sky was dark, her room cold. The lights coming from the island seemed to taunt her, intensify her loneliness, her cold. She thought the full moon was a cruel reflection of her predicament: the twisted smile and hollow eyes embodying her desires. As they approached the island she could see how rocky the shore was, see a particularly tall rock, made a chair to a young man. She moved closer to the window. The light glinted off a small medallion around his neck. It seemed vaguely familiar. _Will? It can't be…_

She reasoned it was a trick of the light, and climbed up to the deck. She made sure she had everything with her. Leaning out over the railing, she continued to watch the young man, watch as a young woman walked up behind him. Watched him turn around. She wondered if this was a cruel joke of her predicament too. She wondered if this was some sort of sign pertaining to her relationship with Will.

She continued to watch the pair. Continued to watch as they spoke. She assumed they were speaking, although she could not see them clearly. They were merely silhouettes in a grander picture, but she couldn't fathom why they would be staring at each other for as long as they did. As they neared the shore, Lord Beckett approached and told her she would need to walk on the rocks from here. It wasn't that much farther, so she moved to the rope ladder without complaint.

Lord Beckett reached for her hip, and pulled the sword off her belt. She began to complain at this point. He stared at her reproachfully. "We agreed on transportation. This—" He held up the sword. Her only connection to Will. "Is my price. Accept it, or we can leave." She stared from him to James tentatively, and then began to climb down.

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"Will…" He heard the soft voice behind him, and turned to face her. He would hide nothing from her. He would show her his shame, his apologetic manor.

He cut her off before she could say anything. "I feel so… stupid right now. I'm so sorry—"

She broke off. There was the faintest gleam of a tear in her eyes, the slightest tremble in her voice when she spoke. "Don't say that. Sorry doesn't fix anything. Nothing can be done about it now. I can't honestly say… that I tried to stop you, can I? We can forget it happened. Just don't forget Elizabeth." Her eyes flickered towards to sea for a moment. She saw the white sails, but said nothing of them. "You still have a need to find her, don't you?" He nodded, unable to make a sound. There was that feeling again.

"Will, if you want to find her, think of the worst possible place she could be." _Dead. Or a captive of Beckett._ "She's probably around there somewhere." He looked at her, and thought of a different place. _If she were anywhere, I wouldn't want her to be here._ Will looked at Cassandra again, that feeling stirring within him.

He had moved towards her in the time she'd been speaking. She looked into his eyes and swiftly kissed him before returning to the house. He called after her, although he wasn't sure he heard. "I'm not sorry."

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Elizabeth kept her gaze upon the two people growing closer. She could see them better now. The young man reminded her of Will but he couldn't be. He couldn't be here. She continued to advance on the pair, and when they were a reasonable distance away, she saw them kiss, watched the girl walk away. The man was facing away from her now. And she walked up behind him.

She was about to speak when he called something to the other girl. "I'm not sorry." She knew that voice. She had brought herself here under the impossibility that it could be him, but it was.

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He had meant for Cassandra to hear it, but she didn't. The wrong girl heard it. The one he had thought to be so far away, the one he had wished wouldn't be here, on this shore. He didn't hear her approach him; he didn't know she was there. He turned back towards the sea, a shocked smile playing around his lips.

His smile vanished when he saw her standing there. His shocked expression was nothing compared to hers. She was hurt, more hurt than he'd ever known her to be. _She was right. Elizabeth was right where I didn't want her._ She tried to say something. Her mouth moved, her lips formed words, but no sound escaped her.

He stood up, and she backed away. His shock evaporated, he was serious now. His glance was once again accusatory. He was the one who had hurt her, and he was suspicious of her. His featured softened as a single tear rolled down her cheek. "Elizabeth… I—"

"You what?" She almost screamed back at him. "Don't say you're sorry. I came to find you. I trusted you, I loved you!" She backed away from him, turned and began to run away.

He caught her wrist, pulling her back to him. For once he knew what to say. "I won't say I'm sorry. I'm not sorry."


	7. Do you love her?

"I won't say I'm sorry. I'm not sorry." Will held fast to Elizabeth's wrist even as she tried to pull away. He looked in her eyes for some sort of sign that he was wrong. Wrong about everything. There was fear in her eyes, he could see it clearly. But there was also something else. Something stronger than fear, anger, even stronger than hate.

Elizabeth was unable to speak. She hadn't been expecting this. She had expected him to be angry, happy, or something more emotional. He was silent, stoic. There was something strange about him; he had changed since they'd last seen each other. He'd become a completely different person.

Will could see the thoughts forming, all the things she wanted to say come forward, but she never spoke a word. They stood for a moment, and he relinquished his grip on her wrist. She didn't run. Elizabeth moved over to the rock he'd occupied previously and sat on top of it, facing out towards the ocean. Will waited a moment, then followed her, beginning to speak. "It isn't—"

"Who is she?" Elizabeth had decided how to talk to him. Everything was too different, it would never be like it used to be. Speaking with him while she had so much she hid was nigh unbearable. Sitting next to him wanting nothing more than to touch him, hold him, was more painful than anything she'd ever experienced. She put up an icy barrier around her heart, willing herself not to let him in just yet.

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Lord Cutler Beckett watched as Elizabeth made her way towards the island. He had said they couldn't go any farther, but that was a lie. He didn't want to be near that island, hadn't wanted to come. Now they were here, leaving felt impossible. _I have to see for myself… _

"Orders sir?" Admiral Norrington was still behind him, waiting. Beckett made a vague hand gesture to his left. He was staring at the girl walking back into the building. _Could it be?_

"Turn round and dock on that beach over there. Make sure we're not seen by those in that hut." Norrington nodded and walked of to give orders, leaving Cutler alone to his thoughts, a dangerous thing to do sometimes. Beckett walked back into his 'office.' Once inside he sat at his desk, looking out the window.

Beckett rifled through his drawers, unsure of where he had put what he was looking for. He went through all his drawers without success, and sat in the chair completely perplexed. He opened a small chest to retrieve his seal, but it wasn't there. _Who's been moving my—_ Staring back at him from the chest was a small portrait of a young lady; a young lady with tumbling locks of brown hair and eyes blue-green as the sea itself. _Do I love her? I have to see her. Cassandra…_

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Will was dumbfounded by the simplicity of the question, the calmness of her tone. She repeated the question, unable to say anything else. "Who is she? Was that the Lady of the Sea?" Elizabeth still refused to look at him.

"Y-Yes." He couldn't believe how fast she had become civil towards him. _Does this mean she forgives me?_ "She was the Lady." He wished Elizabeth would look at him. Her words were empty if they were a mask. He couldn't tell by tone alone.

Will moved in front of her. She looked up at him, the tears she felt not evident by looking. "How long have you been here?" She was more suspicious now, but she wouldn't let him know.

Again he was startled by her blunt words. "About seven days."

Elizabeth looked away. She muttered under her breath. "Seven days… that's longer than I spent on the Pearl with Jack." Will had heard the last words. _With Jack._ He suddenly became edgy again. He was too wrapped up in his anger and confusion to stop himself from saying or doing something he would regret.

He made her look at him again. "Do you love him? Jack?" He was searching in her eyes. Her eyes wouldn't betray her answer, but she had no answer to give. Elizabeth wouldn't provide him with this information, she doubted she knew it herself. Instead she retaliated.

"Do you love her?" The words were quick to come. She hadn't meant to say them. She could see how these words affected him. She could feel how these words affected him. He cast his eyes downward, unwilling to answer, unable to hide the truth from her.

"I—I don't know. I only know that I love you, Elizabeth. I've always loved you." The words were thin, devoid of emotion. He wasn't even sure if he believed them. The only real truth in it was that he loved her. She knew he was lying about the rest. She could see it; sense it in his words.

"How can you love two people equally? It doesn't make sense." She still had that wall up. Still she guarded herself against the accusations she knew he would make.

She slipped off the rock and walked along the coast before turning to face him. He waited patiently until she had stopped before responding. "Why don't you tell me?"


	8. Just Go

"Why don't you tell me?" Will couldn't keep the bitterness from his tone this time, hard as he tried. He turned his back to Elizabeth and started to walk, unwilling to face her any longer. It was too hard to try and understand her mind, her heart, while his own were in such disarray. Elizabeth stood still, shocked at these piercing words. She'd never seen him like this.

"I can't tell you." She could barely speak, her words a whisper lost amongst the breaking waves. She took a breath of the salty air and spoke louder. "I can't tell you. I don't." He stopped in his tracks, the water splashing against his ankles. He couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"You don't? Then why couldn't you answer my question before? You said you loved me, Elizabeth. Loved. Not that you love me." He whipped around. He had been almost happy before. It felt like he was being deflated, the air sucked out of him leaving him cold and empty. He dropped his voice. "So you've made your decision. Jack."

She couldn't believe what he was saying. _He can't really believe that?_ "No, Will I—"

"Don't bother. I think I'm starting to understand." He walked back to the house, leaving Elizabeth speechless and alone.

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Lord Beckett de-boarded the Endeavour hastily, but hesitantly. _I wonder what she'll say, what she'll think. _He hadn't thought of what to say. He had acted rashly, and his paranoia was making him pay. He walked at a brisk pace, determined to get there. He had instructed the crew to stay on board so he was perfectly alone.

The shadows of the island seemed to mock him. They seemed to know his secrets, threatening to tell. He looked instead out to the sea. He could smell the salts, feel the distant spray. He could faintly hear and see a quarrel between two people out on the rocks. Their voices carried far. He heard snatched of conversation, but they made no sense to him. His mind was focused on only one thing—or rather, one person.

When he finally reached the house, he knocked tentatively on the door. A few minutes later, a small boy opened the door. This boy led him into a room where he waited for what seemed like forever. The boy told him the Lady was 'busy' and that he had to wait, The room was rather richly decorated, considering they were in a shanty off the ocean. The furniture was comfortable, the curtains looked rather expensive, and there was a rug worthy of a Governor's mansion on the floor. _Where does she find it all?_

His examinations were interrupted by a knock on the door, followed with a sharp gasp. His head had whipped around to see a woman dressed in a lilac dress and carrying a darker violet fan. Both looked slightly tarnished, but they gleamed in their imperfection to create a perfect image. He had turned just in time to see her drop the fan from her face. He took a steadying breath; she was even more beautiful than he remembered. She spoke first in a whisper. "Cutler? Is it really you?"

"Cassandra." He breathed the name as if it were second nature. He breathed it not with disdain, but with caring—with passion. He looked different than she had remembered him. He had removed his wig, for one, and his brown hair was pulled back neatly. He was more handsome than ever. His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Where's Jack?"

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Elizabeth walked behind him, not bothering to try and catch up. She knew there was nothing she could say at the moment, so she said nothing. Her thoughts overwhelmed her. _He can't believe that. I don't love Jack. I do not love Jack. I love Will. I've always loved Will. _ She accidentally voiced one thought in a whisper, but as fate would have it, that whisper carried to Will's ears. "I don't love Jack."

Will smirked gently, giving an unwarranted response to her vocalized thought. "If you have to talk yourself into believing it, it probably isn't true." He had reached the house and walked through the doorway and down the hall. Elizabeth ran to keep up and followed him to a small room at the back. He hadn't noticed her until she spoke again.

This time she spoke with more authority, more conviction in her voice. "I don't love Jack. I love you, Will." He had a hard time believing that at the moment. "I have made my choice. I choose you. There was never a choice to be made." She could see he wasn't convinced. _No matter what, I can't tell him why. He wouldn't understand._

"Then why, Elizabeth? Why would you do that? You can't love me and kiss Jack. You can't have us both." He sat down on the bed, taking his boots off. He made no invitation for her to come in, so she stood in the doorway. He looked up at her, his eyes daggers. Icy daggers that still burned with the intensity of one thousand suns. He was passionate, he needed this answer, needed it to get through this. But she couldn't tell him.

"You wouldn't understand." She looked at the ground. _What I did, Jack was right. I am a pirate. Will's no pirate though. He never goes back on his word, never dishonours himself or anyone else. He has a sense of propriety. No matter what he's done, he's been noble. He wouldn't understand, he'd never forgive me._

He stood up to face her, lifting her chin so her gaze met his. "I wouldn't understand. That's your excuse. I've understood a lot in the past. I risked everything for you, and you don't trust me enough to even try explaining it." He walked over to the other side of the room, staring out the window. _I need to think right now. There's nothing more I can do. _"Just go, Elizabeth."

Her eyes filled with tears, but there was nothing more to be done, nothing to be said. Reluctantly she turned and walked through the halls, Will's words still ringing in her mind. _If you have to talk yourself into it, it probably isn't true… just go, Elizabeth. Just go._


	9. If Only She'd Stayed

"Where's Jack?" Lord Beckett narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He looked over at Cassandra, who still stood in shocked silence. He could see how time and past experiences had wizened her, how nature had kept her beauty. She was so different from the woman he'd known and yet so much the very same.

She managed to regain control of her thoughts and answered his question. "I don't know. I haven't seen him for almost three years." She seemed saddened, and then suddenly turned spiteful. "He's been being chased by the Royal Navy, or didn't they inform you?" She seethed. She could never forgive him what he'd done to her, to Jack. She could never forgive him for what he did to himself when he betrayed Jack.

Beckett's features softened almost immediately. "Are—are you alright?" He asked quietly and gently, hoping she would understand his intentions. He missed her, her smile, her laugh. He missed the times when she was happy. He knew what he'd done had caused her pain. She knew what she'd done had caused him pain.

Cassandra moved over to the window and leaned on the sill. The rising sun cast strands of golden and bronze light, which made her shine as they hit her face. She sighed and turned to face him, a single tear rolling down her cheek. "It's hard to say. I'm alone, all the time. I help people for a living, but I never was able to help myself."

He moved over to her and wiped the tear from her cheek. "I'm here. You're not alone anymore." He pulled her into his embrace, old feelings flooding forward. This brought back memories. She didn't struggle against him, she had felt the old feelings too. But her heart wouldn't let her do this. She couldn't do this to him again.

A sudden cry of pain shot through the house, echoing through the halls. "Will." Cassandra gasped, remembering his injury that had remained untreated the previous day. Beckett let go of her, understanding that she had to go do her duty. She was vaguely glad to be out of the room, occupied with something else. There was too much deceit in that part of her past.

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Will woke more confused than he had been when he'd begun to sleep. He'd woken from a sharp stab of pain in his leg, unless he was imagining it. His conversation with Elizabeth had replayed in his dreams over and over, so much that he could barely discern the real from the fabled. He could barely tell reality from fantasy anymore. There was a certainty in his mind of one thing only. _She loves Jack._ This thought became his mantra. A cold and ruthless mantra it was, making him miserable. He wished it were untrue with every fiber of his being, but he couldn't change what had happened. _She loves Jack._ _She loves Jack._ He could think of nothing else, the pain his mantra caused him was too immense. His mantra was interrupted as he recalled something she had said. _'I love you, Will. I have made my choice, I choose you.'_ These words burned clear in his memory, these at least he knew were true.

He sat bolt upright, a feeling of happiness returning to him. _She loves me. She loves me._ He tried to focus his thought on these words, but they faded away, his happiness dampened by his returning mantra. _She loves Jack._ He tried to stand up, but found his injury was much worse than it had been. _The walking must have agitated it._ He wanted to see Elizabeth so badly, but he couldn't bear the pain of walking at the moment.

He settled instead for sitting so he could see both the door and the window. He watched through the bright sunlight streaming through the window as a person—he guessed it was Cassandra—paced outside. He watched this person as he tried to extinguish the mantra, hoping Elizabeth would come. He thought about her, thought about what he would say. He looked to the door and saw a woman standing by it. It was Cassandra, not Elizabeth. Will felt that something again, looking up at her. She came over to treat his injury, for which he was deeply grateful, and he resumed that dangerous thinking business of his.

At last he knew he could answer Elizabeth's question. He could say, with certainty, whether or not he loved Cassandra, and live with the consequences from both women. Cassandra was already here, he could tell her the truth now. He had no choice.

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Elizabeth hadn't slept at all. She had come outside to think, sitting by the water somewhere to the east of the house where the beach was sandy. The sun had risen some time ago, and so she resumed the frantic pacing she had commenced after her argument with Will. She couldn't stop thinking about the last things he said to her. His words had haunted her all night, keeping her from sleep. _'I risked everything for you and you don't even trust me enough to try explaining it. Just go, Elizabeth.'_ She was scared of these words. Not because they were accusatory, but because she feared he was right. She feared it was a lack of trust that had hindered her. She second-guessed all her reasoning, passing it off as excuses. _Maybe I should try._

She looked to the door, half-expecting Will to be waiting for her. When he wasn't she decided to go inside to see if he was awake. The cool water splashed against her ankles with every hesitant step she took, pushing her a little farther each time. When she reached the house, however, she realized that she had no idea where she was. She could faintly hear the low voice she recognized to be Will's from somewhere to her right, and so she followed the voice until she found his room.

Elizabeth was about to walk in when she saw the Lady sitting in front of him, apparently listening to something he was saying. She tried to hear, but was still too far away and caught only the name Cassandra. _Cassandra… so he knows her name too. _ She moved closer to the door, being careful to stay out of sight. She could hear him properly now. "Cassandra, I have to be honest with you. Elizabeth and I talked last night and… I can't bear to lie to either of you anymore. I… I think I've fallen in love again…"

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"I… I think I've fallen in love again. I doubted my feelings for Elizabeth before, but now I'm sure." Cassandra merely nodded. He heard a thud from the hallway and saw her eyes licker towards the door and back towards him. "I have to be honest. I think I love you. But I love Elizabeth more." Cassandra couldn't help but think one thing. _If only Elizabeth had stayed to hear the last part._

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"I've fallen in love again." She didn't need to hear anymore than that. She backed away from the door, but unfortunately stepped too far and thudded into the wall. Cassandra's eyes flicked towards her, then back to Will. Cassandra had seen her, but hadn't made Will see her too. Elizabeth walked down the hallway and back into the foyer. _So he's made his choice, too. He doesn't believe me. He doesn't trust me. He doesn't love me._

A voice from her left startled her. It was another voice she knew. "Cassandra, you're back. How is he—" The voice broke off, seeing it was Elizabeth. She gasped. "Ah, Elizabeth, it's you."


	10. Shoulder To Cry On

"Ah, Elizabeth, it's you." Beckett smiled as he watched her stop dead in the middle of the hall. He knew Mr. Turner was in the house somewhere, and so was quite surprised to find Elizabeth crying. Her eyes were wide with surprise and a look of fear crossed her face.

Elizabeth took a breath, managing to speak. "Lord Beckett. What are you doing here?" She had thought he'd left, watched him sail away. He appeared to have come alone. _Maybe they left him here… serve him right. _She tried to regain her composure, pull herself together.

"Why I am here is none of your concern and as such that information will remain withdrawn." There was a strange expression playing across his face. It could have been sympathy or curiosity, but Elizabeth couldn't be sure. She could see the light behind him, illuminating a sort of sitting room. "But if you don't mind my asking, why are you crying? I thought you'd be rather happier; I gather Mr. Turner is here as well."

He saw Will's name caused her pain, so he left the subject alone. He tried something else; he hated to see people crying. "Weren't you hoping to find Tia Dalma? I'm sure Cassan—I mean, the Lady, could help you." She looked up at him, her eyes clearly asking him why he cared, clearly displaying her resentment towards the Lady of the Sea. She went into the room behind him without a word, and sat down, while Beckett decided to leave her alone and went off to find Cassandra.

She heard footsteps at the doorway again, and turned towards the man, asking a question before she saw whom it was. "Why, might I ask, do you care?" She turned to see a different man standing in the doorway, a look of concern on his face as he saw she'd been crying.

"Elizabeth?"

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Cassandra walked away from Will's room, thinking over what had been said. It wasn't much, but it was meaningful:

'_I love you, Cassandra. But I love Elizabeth more. I just can't do anything more that could hurt her.' _

'_It's all right. But maybe you should be telling her.' _

With every step she took, she could feel the pain returning. Pain she hadn't felt for four years. Heartbreak. She remembered the last time as if it were yesterday.

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Will lay back in his bed staring up at the ceiling. His pain was subsiding, but he thought it best to let it stop hurting completely before he risked agitation again. He had spoken to Cassandra reasonably well about the ordeal, and now was preparing to face the woman he had scorned multiple times. Elizabeth. He had hoped she would come to see him, but as of yet she had not. He looked out the window again. The person who had been pacing was gone now, out of his sight. He wondered how upset Elizabeth would be, what he could say to calm her.

He thought instead about Jack. As mad as he was at the pirate, Jack was one of his closest friends. This sort of betrayal should be unforgivable, but Jack was Jack. Will figured that given the right circumstances, he could forgive Jack. If only he'd had the chance. Jack was gone, being jealous or spiteful was only an insult to his memory. Will wished things had turned out differently, but they hadn't. There was nothing he could do for Jack, although if it would help calm Elizabeth he'd do anything to reach this goal.

He thought again of the kiss he had witnessed. _It was meaningless. Well, it had meaning at the time, maybe just a passing whim. She loves me. _He was doing that dangerous thinking thing again. It had gotten him into enough trouble already yet he couldn't stop theorizing. He couldn't stop analyzing, couldn't control the jealous fire that had been kindled. He wondered if the kiss was real. There was meaning, yes, and definitely passion. But it didn't seem natural.

Will couldn't extinguish his thoughts any more than he could turn back time and stop the kiss, prevent any of this from happening. He resigned himself to letting his mind wander as he closed his eyes, wishing Elizabeth would come.

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Elizabeth turned around, fearing she was going insane. Here was another voice out of place, someone that shouldn't be here that was. It wasn't Beckett's authoritative, harsh voice. It wasn't Will's soothing tone, angry or forgiving. It wasn't Jack's drunken slur. It was the warm, surprised voice of James Norrington.

"Elizabeth?" He asked again, not entirely sure why she wasn't responding. "Elizabeth, are you alright? What happened?" He saw the tears forming; saw the tracks they'd already left on her cheeks. He moved and sat down beside her, allowing her to do the only thing possible at the moment: break down and cry.

She couldn't have Will. She couldn't have Jack. Will wouldn't believe her, he didn't trust her, and he loved Cassandra. And although she might deny it, the only other person she could love in this world had been condemned to Davy Jones' locker by Elizabeth herself. James Norrington was the one sitting beside her, trying to comfort her, open and willing to listen. She couldn't have Jack. She couldn't have Will. James was her shoulder to cry on.


	11. Wants, and Don't Wants

_Two young pirates sat on the dock, one a man, and one a woman. They spoke in hushed tones, so as not to disturb the quiet town. Their friend had told them he had a surprise. The man sitting on the dock, Jack, didn't trust the other man. Cutler Beckett was not as famous as Jack, but he was a good pirate, one of the best Jack had seen. He was deceitful, but his fiancée seemed to trust him nonetheless. She had convinced Jack to stay, even though he hadn't wanted to._

I guess she feels bad. She did betray him, maybe she thinks he's forgotten._ Jack couldn't help but think. He loved her too much to deny her his company. And he couldn't leave her alone to face Cutler's wrath. _They were to be married, before I … Before she met me …

_The woman, Cassandra, smiled up at him. She was never this happy when she was with Cutler. There was something about Jack that shone with the light of one thousand moons. She looked up to see if Cutler was returning yet, and her smile quickly flattened into a shocked expression. Jack, terrified, looked to see what was behind him. Cutler Beckett was returning wearing a uniform of the King's Navy, three armed officers behind him. He looked down at the pair of them. 'Here, this one. Arrest this man, he is a pirate.' He looked apologetically into Cassandra's face, but found her eyes cold. _

_Her eyes swam with tears as they clapped Jack in irons and took him away. Cutler remained behind, the two of them locked in a death glare, trying to make the other cave first. Cutler broke the connection and started to walk away when he heard Cassandra's voice behind him. 'How could you? I trusted you?' She knew what they would do. They would brand him with the P for pirate, and eventually they would hang him. She couldn't bear this pain. 'How could you do that? To Jack, your best friend? To me?!'_

_He looked back at her, his eyes steely so as not to show emotion. 'I am … and always will be … a pirate. At heart, anyway.' He walked away as she collapsed on the deck, sobbing._

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As Cassandra walked down the hall, she felt the pain. Pain she hadn't felt since that fateful day. She knew what it was this time: deep heartbreak, unyielding loss. She cried inwardly, not allowing a single tear to slide down her cheek, not letting her eyes twinkle with the faintest memory of a tear. She had vowed never to let him see her cry again.

She put on a smile as she walked back to Cutler Beckett. She asked him without hesitation. "What do you want from me?"

He looked back at her, exasperated. "I needed to see you. Talk to you. Apologize. I never wanted you to get hurt. I couldn't let that scoundrel have you. It was … too much."

She was taken aback by his words. _He was trying … to protect me?_ She still felt love for him. She still loved him. She didn't want to forgive him for what she'd done. But in all the time she'd known him everything he'd done had been about him. He'd never so much as lent Jack a pound (which was smart as Jack would never have repaid him), even though Jack had been his truest friend. She hadn't meant to forgive him, or take him back. But when she realized she was the reason for all of this, that he had been trying to help her, she couldn't control it. "I forgive you."

He looked at her, dumbfounded by her quick, resolute reaction. She repeated herself. "I forgive you. I … I love you." His shock turned into happiness as his face broke into a smile, rejuvenating his features. He looked as handsome as he had on the day she'd first met him. She couldn't have Will. She knew she'd never be able to. She couldn't have the only she truly loved, Jack. But she could have Cutler, her old love. And as much as she convinced herself otherwise, it wasn't what she wanted. She would stick to it as long as she had to though. It was a compromise.

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Elizabeth stopped crying soon after she had begun, and went about telling James Norrington the whole sad tale. The argument, and what she'd overheard. He looked as shocked as she felt. He had thought that Will had more honour than he was proving true. He raised the notion of misconceptions, accidental timings, and other such nonsense, but Elizabeth wouldn't believe him. Not because she didn't trust him, because he hadn't been there at the time.

Norrington told her all about Beckett's sudden decision to stay, and his orders to remain on the ship. The crew had become restless and worried, so James had some to make sure everything was alright. He comforted her as best he could, but all he could say were everyday expressions, the kind of colloquialisms that never capture the true essence of a situation, but merely are meant as fodder for ones denial. He knew they weren't helping, so he tried speaking from the heart. "Maybe you should talk to him. It's possible he has a reason for not talking to you –"

"Like he doesn't love me?" She shot back icily. He noticed her words had become sharper, more passionate than when he'd seen her previously. She was quicker to respond when she disagreed however. He tried to respond, but she wouldn't let him. "Yes, I'll go and try to talk to him, but he'll ignore me. His mind is made up, he loves her, and he thinks I love Jack. Jack, of all people!"

He looked at her sardonically. "Maybe your mind is made up about his."

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The sun was setting outside the window, sending streaks of red and orange that tie-dyed the walls. The light shone brightly in Will's eyes as he woke up. He had fallen asleep waiting for Elizabeth, but it seemed she hadn't come. He was saddened by this notion. _Maybe she really doesn't care. Maybe she lied._ He wouldn't let himself believe that just yet. He waited a bit longer, and sure enough came a knock at his door.

Elizabeth entered, not looking entirely reproachful nor inviting. He knew what he was going to say, but thought it wiser to let her have her go first. She sat down as he sat up and they looked at each other for a while, coming to an unspoken conclusion that they wouldn't shout today. They needed to fix this, if not entirely. She started to speak in what he thought was an apology, but turned out to be another attack, another accusation. "Will, I'm sorry for overhearing your confession of love for Cassandra. Kind of took the wind out of your sails."

He could feel his face burning with embarrassment. Her words cut him like icy blades. He was afraid to retaliate from fear of being sliced to ribbons. "Elizabeth it isn't what you think. Yes I love Cassandra, but I love you more." She looked about to argue, but he cut her off. "Yesterday you asked me how I can love you equally. I can't. I can only love one of you more. I've made my decision."

She felt cold, and yet so warm. Ice ran in her veins as she realized how wrong she'd been. A cold wave of awakening rushed over her, and yet it filled her with such warmth she hadn't known since he'd asked for her hand. He loved her. He'd chosen her, Elizabeth. She was prepared to take him up on that offer. She met his gaze, but he was still closed to her. "I know what you said was true. You just have to be honest with me."

She still couldn't bear to tell him what had really happened. She couldn't speak the truth. "That, I can not tell you."

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Cassandra had one thing to ask of Beckett. "Lend them a longboat. They can go the rest of the journey by themselves." She needed him to help Will and Elizabeth, for her peace of mind.

He reluctantly agreed. I looked at her suddenly, a new sparkle in his eyes. "Come with me." She was afraid, he could see it. "Come with me, and we can be like we were. Come with me." _It's better than being alone, wishing, wondering everyday what would have happened if you'd gone. _Slowly she nodded her head.

Will and Elizabeth could find Tia Dalma. She could have Cutler. Everyone wins. Everybody finds their way, everyone gets their own happy ending. What more could she want?


	12. Still A Lie

"That, I can not tell you." Elizabeth averted her eyes for a moment, but when she again met Will's gaze, there was a fire there. "Why do you keep asking? Don't you know … can't you see I can't say? You wouldn't …" He looked quite taken aback by her aggravated manner. She looked almost furious with him, as if she'd reached the end of her tether. He had never seen her this agitated before, but was thoroughly annoyed himself at being attacked like this.

"I wouldn't what? I wouldn't understand? You've said that before, and I didn't believe you then. What makes you think I wouldn't understand? Lately, it seems like you don't know me." A fire burned inside him. There was something inside him he thought had been lost when he'd seen her kiss Jack. Passion. Passion was present in him now, he would harness it, never letting go. "You don't know me at all." He looked disgusted at her assumptions, frustrated with the way she behaved. He looked like an angry schoolteacher reprimanding a youngster, tired and ready to give up.

His words seemed to wash over her. "If I say I can't tell you, why can't you just trust me?"

"Trust, and not be trusted in return? A lie with no bearings is still a lie Elizabeth. Trusting you when you lie openly to me is …" He looked exasperated, restraining himself from shouting. "Impossible." He turned his back and walked the length of the room, calming himself down. His temper was getting the better of him.

Halfway through his gait across the room he faltered, cursing under his breath as his left leg almost gave way, which would surely have made him fall. She almost cried out his name, but her conscious wouldn't let her. Elizabeth couldn't keep herself from being angry at him, nor was her anger unwarranted. "Impossible? I once thought talking with you would be impossible. Back when you never said my name. I thought it was impossible to get to know you, as much as I would have liked to. Where would we stand if _I_ believed in impossible?"

She waited with bated breath for him to turn around, for him to respond. When he finally did, he no longer possessed fire. His eyes remained shadowed as he refused to look up, a single tear rolling down his cheek. He spoke in a hoarse whisper, the well of emotions audible in his voice. "You're right. All I can do is trust you." He turned away, walking out the door and began to limp down the hallway, unable to hold back the tears. He almost never cried. Not openly. He had cried when his father had left. He had cried when his mother had died. He cried now, Elizabeth's words holding true in his memory. She was right.

She followed him down the hall, watching, feeling more guilty with every step he took. She could see he was in pain. _Why didn't I see it before? And I thought he just didn't want to see me … he _couldn't_ come to see me._ She entered the room without hesitation, sitting beside him. Wanted or not, she wrapped her arms around him, comforting as best as she could. They both knew, it was over. They came to a silent agreement, her holding him as the last of his tears escaped him. She let go only when he stopped crying, and as he met her gaze, she spoke. "I didn't know. I'm sorry."

He wasn't sure what she was talking about specifically, but it didn't matter. "It's alright." He stroked her hair and she looked up at him, their gazes meeting again. He pulled her towards him, pulled her into a gentle kiss. She smiled up at him, truly believing that he trusted her. They sat, side by side, and began to talk about everything. About almost everything. She didn't tell him what he was dying to know. She didn't tell him about the irons, about his involuntary sacrifice. She didn't tell him what he had so often asked of her. And he would wait for the answer, just a bit longer.

Their conversation was interrupted by a knock at the door. Cassandra entered, along with Beckett. "Ah, Lord Beckett. I do believe your admiral awaits you in the sitting room." Elizabeth made sure he noted James' presence in the house, then turned away from them and looked at Will.

Cassandra spoke first, trying to ease the silence. Will and Beckett were staring at each other, daggers in both their eyes. "Will, Elizabeth, I've found you passage to the island where Tia Dalma lives." She looked up at Beckett. "Cutler has offered you a longboat. It isn't far from here, I can show you on the map …" She paused, hesitating to tell them the rest of their news.

Beckett stepped in, finishing her sentence for her. "You'll be on your own, unfortunately. I have business to attend to, and Cassandra will no longer be here. She will accompany me." He looked a tad too smug. Will and Elizabeth gaped at the pair of them. It was unfathomable, really. Neither of them had picked Beckett for the 'likable' type.

Will was the first to come out of his shocked stupor. He smiled weakly, his hand finding Elizabeth's. His voice feebly sounded as he tried to gather himself. "When do we leave? Just show me the way."


	13. I Thought You Were

Cassandra hesitated to answer Will's question. _Cutler shouldn't be rushing this … Will hasn't healed properly yet. And Elizabeth must need time alone with her thoughts right now; cooping them up in a dingy could be disastrous! _ "There are … charts. Maps of a kind. They can lead you there from here but they're incredibly difficult to understand." Will looked as though he'd just swallowed something very putrid. He looked incredibly frustrated and affronted. He looked around at Elizabeth, but met a guarded expression. He knew she was being careful because of Beckett, he'd already duped them once.

"You won't have much time to learn the art of reading maps, Mr. Turner." Beckett looked rather smug as he insulted Will openly, the sarcasm thick in his voice. Will felt the back of his neck start to burn as he became deeply embarrassed at what he thought were two different people calling him stupid. "We leave at first light tomorrow. You should leave soon after." Beckett turned on his heel, a satisfied smirk crossing his face as the pair gawked back at him. He stalked off, back to the Endeavour to wait for Cassandra.

Elizabeth automatically dropped her stoic act as she saw the last of Beckett's jacket whip around the corner and out of sight. She left out a small sigh as she contemplated what had to be done in the allotted time, listening to nothing but the fading sound of Beckett's footsteps. She thought she'd finally seen the last of him for a while. Vaguely, she heard Cassandra and Will talking, and her attention was caught by the mention of her name.

"You and Elizabeth should leave tonight, before Cutler can change his mind about the boat." Cassandra warned them about the rocks, the hidden shallows, and something about sand crabs, rather vaguely before getting to the charts. She crossed the room and opened the wall – there was a hidden drawer above the bed – and revealed the charts.

The map was in the shape of a square, its edges pristine as if it had never been used before. Cassandra untied a thin ribbon and showed them the actual object they were seeing was not the folded charts, but a box. She pulled the map out of the thin box. It was a small square, less than a foot by a foot, but it was incredibly detailed. Will saw at once what Cassandra had meant about them being difficult to read; the writing was tiny and the wording made no sense. On the back of the chart there was a list of instructions – just in case. He initially thought that was rather juvenile of the mapmaker, but as he tried to decipher the strange instructions, he realized it was much easier to use the visuals of the map and not the writing. As it turned out, the map was only of the area and led straight from their current position to the island where Tia Dalma lived.

Will placed the map carefully back in the box. "How long will it take? The entire journey can't be that long …" He looked out the window at the twinkling night sky. If they had to leave tonight they'd better leave soon. He wasn't sure how early in the day it was, but before first light they had to be gone.

"It should only take a couple of days." She looked grimmer now. "But unfriendly seas and even unfriendlier creatures can make all the difference. Watch the land, watch the skies. And never leave the water unchecked. The longboat is waiting outside. I've provided what you'd need for three days. Pray you reach her fast." As Cassandra left, she said a silent goodbye, wishing for their safety. _Calypso, cruel cousin … don't be too hard on them. Guide them, keep them safe. _She called back to them. "Tell Tia Dalma I say hello, will you?"

Elizabeth hadn't said anything for a while now. She was deep in thought, her mind whirring with a thousand memories. She thought about her mother, how much she missed her. She thought about her father, waiting for her back home. She didn't know what she'd do without Will. Slowly, methodically, she looked at him and spoke. "II think it's time. If we want to see the crew, we should go." Will nodded and together they went to the longboat and cast off from the island, hoping not to go astray.

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As the light crept across the seas, Elizabeth fell asleep to the gentle rocking of the boat. Her dreams were filled with terrible thoughts, terrible images that had been haunting her. Every bad memory had been dredged up over the past week. She couldn't sleep properly for it, and she looked a ghost for the fright that had been inflicted. She still hadn't gotten over what she'd done, and although she knew Will could help her, she didn't want him to suffer as well.

This dream was especially bad. She was reliving her mother's death over and over. She could see her mother, lying on a soft bed, her eyes empty and distant. Her voice, telling Elizabeth to be all she can be, echoed a million times at once, like a silent scream wanting to ring, but unable to crescendo. Elizabeth could feel her mother's hand in her own, feel the warmth being sucked dry as the last breath escaped her mother. She turned away, only to be facing an angry, vengeful Will. He was advancing; he kept screaming at her, 'Why wouldn't I understand?' He finally resigned and turned away, the tears falling fast down his cheeks. She moved towards him, and he turned to face her, but it wasn't Will's face she was staring into. It was Jack. He pulled her towards him and kissed her deeply, chaining _her_ against the mast. Leaving _her_ to the Kraken. He whispered a parting word. 'Pirate,' and went to join the others in the longboat. She saw them sail away, unable to do anything, unable to say anything. Will called back to her, but all she heard was her name. It mocked her, a cruel parody of everything she felt. Somehow it all reverberated back as her name sounded all around her. _Elizabeth … Elizabeth … Elizabeth …_

"Elizabeth?" She opened her eyes. "Are you alright? You scared me for a moment. I thought …" He had abandoned the oars, letting them drift on the currents. There was a terrible pain in her head; she moved her hand up to her forehead, feeling warm blood on the side of her face. He was trying to clean the wound. He looked shaken, as if he had seen a ghost. She knew she must look dreadfully more shocked. His voice was little more than a whisper. "You fell asleep. Must have had a terrible dream. You hit your head on the edge of the boat and … I couldn't calm you down. I was afraid you were … gone." She knew what he meant by that. He thought he was losing her. She felt terrible. The dream made her feel terrible. That dream, she wouldn't soon forget.

Will didn't have much success in rowing the boat as the day progressed. He could only imagine what sort of dream could be that terrible. He was so preoccupied, watching Elizabeth out of the corner of his eye, fearing for her life, or her sanity. Lately she hadn't seemed like she was all there. He needed her to tell him what really happened. She needed him to know, needed him to help her. She just didn't know it yet.

_I thought … I was afraid you were gone._


	14. Confessions

Elizabeth watched Will rowing, wishing she could confide in him. She saw him glance at her every moment he could, saw the panicked terror in his eyes. She wanted to tell him what she had seen, but she wasn't ready just yet. It was tormenting him, she could see it, not only what she was hiding but what she had dreamt. _He needn't worry … He's making this too hard!_ She could do naught but sit at the bow of the longboat, staring out into the vast open sea.

Will shakily put the oars down, letting the little boat drift a little. Elizabeth seemed empty, like whatever she was hiding was destroying who she was. He hated to see her so tortured, couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her so pained. He knew the intense feeling of loss too well, however this seemed a new level of extreme. He couldn't get her voice out of his head, from when she'd been asleep. At first he thought she'd been speaking to him. She'd whispered so many times, 'I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.'

"Elizabeth … what—" He broke off at the look on her face.

"I … It was my mother." She averted her eyes, not allowing herself to look at him while she lied. _He doesn't deserve this. I don't deserve this. I don't deserve … him._ "I remembered her death. I remembered how empty she looked, how distant she'd been. Feeling her hand become cold. Her parting words kept playing in my head."

He knew she was lying. He could taste the bitter disgust at how often she lied now. He tried keeping his voice level and calm. "Then what are you sorry about?" She looked up at him for the first time. She looked confused.

"I'm … what?" _She doesn't understand … Doesn't Elizabeth know what she was saying? _ She spoke with conviction, as if convincing herself of something. "I'm not sorry. I'm not sorry about anything."

They sat in tense silence for a moment or so. The sun had set a while ago, and the soft sounds of gentle waves filled the air. Elizabeth spoke slowly, watching Will struggle against his instincts – to argue. "I'm sorry about … Jack." The tears were welling up and she couldn't stop them. She needed to tell him. She needed to let him help her. She was ready. "I … I killed him."

Will emitted a short laugh. _He doesn't believe me._ "You killed him?" He could see she was serious. "But I thought – You can't have killed him! Why would you?" He looked at her, unable – unwilling – to believe her.

"I did it … I did it to save us!" The tears were flowing now. She couldn't control it anymore. "It was after Jack, not us. I did what I had to!" She looked away.

"So you kissed him, to kill him. That makes a lot of sense, Elizabeth. Wasn't there any other way?"

"I knew you wouldn't understand. All you understand is saving people, helping people who don't need it just because it makes you feel better about yourself. You don't understand me at all. We're from different worlds, Will." She looked up at him, a fire in her eyes. She couldn't hold back anymore.

Will chose his words carefully. "We are. But we're living in opposite ones. There's pirate in my blood, but not in yours. You're more of a pirate than I could ever imagine to be." She looked shocked. Apparently she didn't think of herself as one. "I can't be your pirate, Elizabeth. It's not who I am. I don't understand."

"I don't need you to be my pirate. I can handle things fine on my own." She looked away. He resumed rowing. He was exhausted, but he wouldn't rest until they reached their destination. He couldn't stand to live like this anymore.

"I thought things would be different now. Happier. I guess you were never really happy in the first place."

Will continued rowing until he collapsed, falling into a deep sleep. Elizabeth carefully took the oars, thinking about everything. _I don't deserve him. I don't deserve any of this._

Will dreamed of life before Beckett. When life was as simple as planning a wedding, sharing a happy life with his fiancée. Yet he could feel her pain. He did understand why she had acted as she had. He knew now why she was who she was. He understood that everything she had done had been not to protect herself, but to protect … them. He now regretted what he'd said.

_I guess you were never really happy in the first place._


	15. The Path of Least Resistance

The last two days of the journey passed silently. Will had taken up the oars again on the third day, having slept through most of the second. He had had time to mull things over, and had come to a conclusion. He needed to tell her how he felt. He needed her to know what she was thinking.

As they rowed into the canal, no longer floating on open water, the dark trees met overhead, blocking light from the sun so it appeared dappled through the green leaves. The lights on the shoreline danced through the eerie green that glowed from overhead and from beneath. Elizabeth stared in wonder at the mystical place, wondering what Tia Dalma was like. _Sea Witch…_ The words replayed in her head again, and she came to understand Beckett's earlier implications.

Elizabeth looked at Will, saw his determination not to look at her. She needed him to accept her. She needed him to help her. His eyes flickered over her face and met her gaze. She still looked distant. He cleared his throat, breaking the dull silence that had swept over them. Even the gentle current made no noise. There was no chirping of birds, no rustle of movement. Time around them seemed to have stopped.

"Elizabeth … what I said earlier … I didn't mean it. I –" She looked at him.

"It's all right." She smiled at him then quickly looked away. To feign a smile now hurt, she couldn't bear to see him in pain so she chose not to see him at all. She chose the path of least resistance.

"No, it's not! I can see when you're lying to me, Elizabeth! I for one, understand you." She felt the breath catch in her throat. _Was that … Could that have been an apology? His forgiveness?_

She looked at him, but he was no longer looking at her.

They reached a small hut, hanging out over the canal as if it were deciding whether or not to fall in. Elizabeth stepped out o the boat and walked into a dimly lit room, grateful for the warmth, and the end of their conversation.

"Miss Elizabeth?" Came a gruff voice from across the room. She looked up, startled to see Joshamee Gibbs looking back at her. She let a smile slip onto her face, then, hearing Will enter, quickly wiped it from her features.

A woman in a tattered dress, wearing many ornamental necklaces swept over to them from a corner of the room, inviting them to sit down. The air was stale with sadness and loss, it appeared as if Jack's death was still fresh in their minds. Will thought the entire affair on the island a distant dream, a passing whimsical memory. Elizabeth seemed to have forgotten it too, the despair overcoming her blank features. She accepted a mug of warm liquid from the woman, and sat, staring into space.

Gibbs spoke again, breaking the silence, raising his mug in a toast. "To Captain Jack Sparrow. Ain't no other like Cap'n Jack."

**A/N: Well, that's it. That pretty much brings you back to the end of DMC. It messes up some Will/Elizabeth scenes in AWE… but that's okay. Hope you liked it … it's my favourite fic yet.**


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